


Angels to Die

by taeminki



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:46:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4647630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taeminki/pseuds/taeminki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seungcheol had some wonders, did some research, made some promises, told some stories; and it all traced back to Yoon Jeonghan and what happened to him and his Hong Jisoo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wonder

_Can angels die?_

Seungcheol wasn't sure what he expected to find, asking Google if angels could die. Google was just the world. Sure, there were scientists and theorists floating around, but they were still people with no proof that beings from above or being from below roamed the earth. No one knew-- no one apart from a select few people that wouldn't dare share the secret. Seungcheol was one of those people.

Despite the fact that nobody really, _really_  knew if angels were real, Seungcheol found some answers, many people digging very deep, but his general answer was _No_. Angels cannot die. That was exactly the answer Seungcheol was looking for, exactly the kind of relief he was hoping to feel, but it didn't work. For some reason, it didn't make Seungcheol feel any better. He didn't have a spark of hope or a drop of his tense heart; no. He still felt anxious. He was still scared. A dying angel was laying, sleeping on his couch just a few feet away, and Seungcheol didn't have a lot of hope in saving him.

Yoon Junghan died many, many centuries ago in an accident that happened in his early twenties; just as he was now. 21, was his age. He'd been kept in Heaven as an angel, waiting to be sent back down to earth, because his soulmate did not exist in the time period he'd been born into. He was a mistake; he was meant to happen so, so far into the future. He was kept. And then he was sent down. He was a beauty walking the earth, roaming, trying to find his soulmate in the depths of green and concrete grey.

He ended up on Seungcheol's couch, exactly where he _wasn't supposed to be_.

_Can people die of heartbreak?_

Seungcheol closed the tab as soon as he'd typed the words in. Junghan wasn't a person. He was an angel. Seungcheol closed his laptop, a sigh of defeat leaving his lips. He turned in his chair to look over at Junghan. He was curled up, and he looked so pained even in a dream-- dreams that were supposed to be beautiful, dreams that were supposed to show Junghan everything that he wouldn't wake up to. Dreams were evil in that way; the light of day broke off the beauty hidden in them, and reality was thrown in violently. But dreams were there for comfort, and Seungcheol thought Junghan at least deserved a pleasant dream above a nightmare that was making him whimper.

Numb legs carried Seungcheol over to Junghan. He crouched next to the angel and reached out, running his fingers through blonde hair. Blonde. Seungcheol remembered when Junghan had gone to the shop to get his hair dyed the pretty color. It was a surprise for that special person of his, that special person that he'd lost, that special person that was supposed to be in his dreams, giving him so many pleasant images to save him from the nightmare making him tremble. Hong Jisoo was the human form of an angel; and now he was gone.

Of course, Seungcheol felt the effects of it too, having been friends with Jisoo since they were young. Five years old, each of them were. Fifteen years, they'd been best friends. Seungcheol took in a deep breath and let it out, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to come, that threatened to fall. Fifteen years. Fifteen long, long years of ups and downs and turn-arounds, of loving Hong Jisoo the way brothers loved each other. God, Seungcheol would miss Jisoo forever.

"Seungcheol?" a voice asked. Seungcheol had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't quite noticed Junghan had woken. Seungcheol drew his hand back as Junghan was sitting up, looking around, seeming confused. His eyes were pink; the pillow beneath his head was wet. He must have been crying. Seungcheol was surprised he hadn't noticed the tears when he'd moved to crouch next to Junghan.

"What-- what time is it?" Junghan asked, the heel of his hand rubbing his eye softly. Seungcheol reached for the coffee table, grabbing his phone cringing as he realized the brightness was set way too high for-- he looked-- four in the morning. Upon voicing the time, Junghan frowned, "Really? God, sorry-- did I wake you up? I must have. I-I was having a nightmare. I didn't mean to cause a fuss."

"No, you didn't. I noticed you squirming a little bit, but you didn't make any noise. I was just over there." Seungcheol gestured to his computer desk. Junghan was on his way to sitting up fully now, grasping the blanket softly with the hand that wasn't supporting his position and tugging it off his legs so he didn't get tangled. Junghan frowned again, "Hmm? But why were you up so late? Don't you have to go to work early?"

"I'm going to call off tomorrow. Just for tomorrow. I think... we should spend a little bit of time together-- just the two of us, while... while we're still recovering." Seungcheol said. Junghan nodded softly, his gaze falling from Seungcheol's eyes to the blanket he'd managed to unwrap from his around his legs. He was sitting with his hands in his lap now. Seungcheol placed his hands palm-up on Junghan's knees. Junghan only hesitated a moment before he let his hands fall into Seungcheol's.

"You seem a little-- a little under the weather recently, anyway, and I think I should be here to take care of you. Make sure you're eating, make sure you have something to do, things like that." Seungcheol said. Junghan gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head-- "You know. I still can't believe Seungkwan forbid me from showing up to work for the next two months. He was going to go for six months if I hadn't argued so much.... He's a really good friend, you know, for saving my position in such a busy environment just so I have a little time to feel okay again."

"I would do the same thing for you. For anyone. That was someone _important_  that we lost, Junghan, it's-- it's going to take a really big toll on us for a long time." Seunghcheol said. Junghan shifted his gaze down again. Seungcheol didn't mind that he wasn't looking; he spoke anyway, "But. We have each other, right? So we'll be alright."

"We'll be alright." Junghan echoed, but his voice had as much doubt as Seungcheol's mind had in response to _We have each other_. They might now; but Seungcheol wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to keep the angel in front of him alive.


	2. Promise

_Boo Seungkwan,_

_Hi. This is Choi Seungcheol, the roommate of one of your workers. This message is regarding him, actually. Yoon Junghan is very, very ill right now, to the point that he can barely get out of bed without my help, and his head hurts more than any pain he's ever felt, he said. He doesn't think he can come in. Well. He does, and he's very determined to, but I don't, and I can't let him. I'm telling you this because I hope you can convince him that he shouldn't come in to work, as I don't want to force him to stay home and can't, anyway, because I'm often not with him. Even if you have to fire him for just a little while, please don't let him out of bed. He'll understand, in the long run, that whatever we have to do for now is only helping him. If you'd like to come visit him, I have no problem with that. My spare key is hiding in the potted plant just outside my door: Room 117. Junghan mentioned you knew the building. You may have to dig around the leaves a little bit to find it, but I'll assure you it's there. I'm often working overtime, usually from around 7:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. I'm sure he would appreciate the visit. He did say you two were very good friends._

_I'll do my best in taking care of him so he can come back to work soon, and so that he can work properly on healing and becoming happy again. I worry about his well-being, and I would really appreciate if you came over to check on him just sometimes, while I'm away, even if it doesn't have to do with work. I have a feeling he'd be really happy to see you, and I would feel so much better knowing that he's not alone. He doesn't deserve to be alone._

_Thank you,_  
 _Choi Seungcheol_.

Seungcheol wasn't sure if he could depend on Seungkwan. Junghan had never mentioned how close they were, exactly, but he'd brought the boy up enough that Seungcheol thought they must be close enough. Seungcheol closed his laptop and stood up, walking past his couch and back into his bedroom, where Junghan was sleeping-- on the only bed in Seungcheol's tiny, tiny apartment. The beautiful blonde angel was tossing and turning and crying again in his sleep, his strained throat releasing desperate, whimper-like cries because it hurt too much to release proper screams. Seungcheol moved close. Through the past months, after Jisoo's death, Seungcheol had easily adapted to the dodging of fists flying everywhere when Junghan had nightmares like this.

"Angel. Angel, wake up. Junghan. Junghan." Seungcheol was careful not to shake Junghan awake; that only made him more upset. (Seungcheol never quite find out why.) He ran his fingers, gentle, through Junghan's hair instead, pressing his lips softly to the boy's forehead until Junghan was awake, was gasping for breath through his swelling throat. Seungcheol needed to take him to a doctor. He'd tried a while ago, but Junghan denied; he never wanted to step foot in another doctor's office, another hospital, he said, because they always brought bad news and Junghan didn't want any more bad news. (He did promise, however, that if he wasn't better by the end of the week, he would let Seungcheol take him to a doctor. Too bad it was only Monday.)

"Cheol." Junghan whimpered, and he immediately grabbed for Seungcheol's shirt, pulling him down at the same time he was sitting himself up. Junghan was curling in on himself in moments, bringing Seungcheol to tangle with him and the sheets, and they were a mess of too much warmth for a moment, with tears on Junghan's cheeks mixing up against Seungcheol's skin. There were moments of heart-wrenching sobs and Seungcheol trying to comfort Junghan, fingers through hair, lips on skin, arms around body. Junghan held onto Seungcheol so tight, as if a grip any softer would mean he would lose Seungcheol, too. Kiss after kiss was pressed to Junghan's skin, to his hairline, trying to let him know that Seungcheol was there, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

"What were you having nightmares about this time, angel?" Seungcheol asked. and Junghan spilled everything on one breath, it seemed, but it was easy to tell he was taking in breaths-- deep, quick breaths like sobs; and he _was_  still sobbing, speaking through his sobs, all muffled in Seungcheol's shirt. Seungcheol still listened, and he still heard every word of the same reocurring nightmare.

Having been at work that day, of course, Seungcheol wasn't in the hospital. He wasn't there to see Jisoo die. And it wasn't even that he'd been responsive before he died. It was that Junghan was holding his hand and sobbing into his arm and begging him to wake up because his months were over; because they were going to pull the plug on him. Seungcheol couldn't even imagine how much Junghan would have been sobbing. He could heard Junghan's voice begging _"Please! Wake up, Jisoo, wake up, please!"_  He had heard it before. Many nightmares meant many more things revealed through panicked voice. Seungcheol had heard Junghan begging for Jisoo to wake up on multiple nights.

"He's in a better place, Junghan. You've been to Heaven, you've seen it-- it's so beautiful, isn't it? With so many beautiful angels, and.... I'm sure he's one of them. I'm sure he's just waiting for you to return." Seungcheol said, rubbing Junghan's back softly.

"I think He wants me back. God. I think He's trying to take me back." Junghan said, his voice having gone to a whisper. He tapped on his neck softly, "He's suffocating me, I think. It hurts-- it hurts so much. But it doesn't-- it doesn't hurt as much as-- as losing Jisoo, so, so I'm grateful.... I'm so grateful, but.... I don't understand why-- why He took Jisoo away from me in the first place, if He wants me back, and if He wants us together."

"I bet He thought this world was too ugly for two beautiful angels like you." Seungcheol said. His fingers continued to stroke through Junghan's hair-- a broken record of repeated movement and repeatedly feeling his heart break as he spoke, "I think He wants the two of you to be eternally young and beautiful up there, with him. I think He wants you there so He doesn't have to watch over you so carefully. You'll be nice and safe up there. You and Jisoo-- you're the best type of soulmates. You deserve a forever of Heaven together, not a lifetime of... life."

"I think you're right." Junghan said, tapping on Seungcheol's chest softly. He looked up at Seungcheol, with his eyes blinking rapidly, looking confused, "But why does it hurt so bad? Why does everything hurt so bad? Do I have to suffer to get something precious? Do I have to suffer to have Jisoo again? Do you think Jisoo was suffering as he was dying, so that he could have something precious, too?"

"I don't know. I hope not." Seungcheol said. He continued to stroke Junghan's hair; a broken record. Broken record, broken record, broken record... broken, broken, broken. "I'm sorry that you have to suffer. I... hope it's over soon."

"Will you be sad, Seungcheol? Without me? Without us? You'll be left all alone. I want-- I want to go see Jisoo again, and spend forever with him, but I don't want to leave you all alone on earth either." Junghan said. He head tilted; he was looking up at Seungcheol now, but Seungcheol wasn't looking down at him. He continued to stroke Junghan's hair. Broken, broken, broken. He thought he might cry if he met Junghan's eyes.

"I'll be okay. I'll miss you, just like I miss Jisoo. I'll miss both of you forever." Seungcheol said. He ran his fingers through Junghan's hair. Broken, broken, broken. "But I'll be alright. I'll be okay."

"I don't think you will." Junghan whispered, his voice cracking almost as hard as Seungcheol's had-- somewhere when he was saying he'd be okay. Junghan leaned up a little bit closer to Seungcheol. "I mean. I really hope you will, but you already don't seem okay, or on your way to being it, and you haven't lost _me_  yet."

"Well." Seungcheol said, a little smile coming to his lips. His fingers were still in Junghan's hair. Broken, broken, broken. "I guess I'll just have to work twice as hard to reach my okay point."

"You already work so hard." Junghan whispered, so low that Seungcheol almost didn't hear it. Junghan's fingers came to Seungcheol's hair, and he began to run through the strands, just as Seungcheol's fingers were running through long, long blonde. Broken, broken, broken. "I won't leave you until you're okay. I won't leave you until you decide you can handle losing something else. I'll stay. I'll help."

"Don't torture yourself." Seungcheol whispered. Broken, broken, broken. "You go when you need to go, and don't worry yourself over me. I'll be okay. I'm a guy on earth that can handle some heartbreak. You and Jisoo are angels that don't deserve to experience it in the first place."

"For the record, I think you're an angel, too. Just like Jisoo. An angel on earth that... that deserves so much better. You deserve so much better." Junghan said, his voice dropping to a low whisper-- likely with how much his throat was hurting. Junghan's fingers fell from his hair. Seungcheol's remained. Broken, broken, broken. "I think, one day, I'm going to see you again. Even if you're old and wrinkled and have lived your life. One day, when you meet your soulmate, you two will have a beautiful life. God has one of those planned out for you. A beautiful life. And even if he doesn't, maybe I can ask Him to modify."

"You let God make his plans as he wishes. Don't worry about me." Seungcheol said. He kissed Junghan's forehead softly. "Don't ever worry yourself over me. You go and meet Jisoo, and you go have a beautiful forever with him. Okay? Leave me behind. It's okay."

"Are you sure?" Junghan asked. Seungcheol nodded. Junghan shifted, bringing his arm up, accidentally knocking Seungcheol's hand from his hair. Unbroken. Junghan's pinky finger extended, "Promise? Promise that you'll be okay, even if some things turn out to be opposite?"

"I promise." Seungcheol said, firm, just as his smallest finger was wrapped around Junghan's.


	3. Stories

_Angels can die. Yoon Junghan, the most beautiful angel to ever have existed, died three weeks ago to be with Hong Jisoo, an angel trapped inside a human. They're in Heaven, now. Let me tell you why, exactly._

_Centuries ago existed a human version of Yoon Junghan. He was not meant to exist in that time period, for there was no Hong Jisoo to love him. He lived as a human without a soulmate for seventeen years before God decided to take him back and keep him for a while, up until Hong Jisoo had been born, up until he was around seventeen years old, when Junghan was sent back down to earth to be with him. I'm not completely positive why, but I have this theory that God didn't want Yoon Junghan and Hong Jisoo, probably the most angelic beings to ever exist, to live a life on earth so ugly. He wanted them young and beautiful in Heaven, for a forever that was full of beauty._

_Angels can die. Yoon Junghan is gone. Hong Jisoo was gone before him. And I'm still here_.

An article was not necessary. To tell the internet about Yoon Junghan was bullshit. Nobody needed to know about Junghan. Seungcheol highlighted everything he'd just written and pressed the backspace on his keyboard. The lid of his laptop closed a little harsher than necessary. He grabbed up his keys and a jacket that he probably wouldn't wear for a while and dragged himself to his car, drove for what felt like miles, and began to drag himself out again. He was sitting on a bar stool with a glass of deep, deep red wine in his left hand in no time, with his jacket actually on and his hood over his head. He slumped over the bar stool, against the wooden counter, stared down at the light brown surface of the table. He remembered Junghan's hair before he'd gone to get it dyed for Jisoo. How it was such a pretty light brown. It was _such a pretty light brown_. Seungcheol specifically remembers running his fingers through it. Broken, broken, broken....

"Do you think angels can die? Do you think it's fair?" Seungcheol didn't even think he was drunk. Granted, he couldn't remember what drinks he'd ordered or how much money he'd spent-- money he shouldn't be spending because he didn't really have any _to_  spend, but nothing like that mattered at his point. Food? Ha. He didn't want to eat. He didn't really _want_  to drink, either. He just wanted to be away. He wanted Junghan. He wanted Jisoo. He wanted pain-free. But he'd told Junghan he was going to be okay and _dammit_ , he was going to be okay.

"Because I don't think it's fair." Seungcheol said. He was talking to the bartender, a short, rather pretty male with little dimples above his lips when he pulled them into a straight line. He must be annoyed. Another drunk person to talk to. Seungcheol understood, but he didn't stop talking, "Maybe it is fair. My angel? He deserved to be with my other angel. I wasn't even in love with either of them. My real angel, sure, maybe, but Jisoo? No. I was never in love with Jisoo. It was just Junghan. I kind of fell for him-- but that's so disrespectful, because his boyfriend had just died and his boyfriend was my best friend. It's fair. I'm a bad person. It's only fair that he was taken from me. They were good people-- and it's only fair that they're together now, and that they're happy and in Heaven and living an eternity of beauty."

"You lose someone special, I'm assuming?" the bartender asked, though he didn't sound very interested. Seungcheol nodded softly, taking another gulp of his drink. "But this was-- this was a special kind of special. Like. He was my best friend, Jisoo. He'd been with me since we were kids. We even met Junghan together. They fell in love, and then I fell in love with him. I think. I don't know-- he was too beautiful. I think I just admired him. Yeah. I admired him. I cared about him. He and Jisoo-- they were everything to me."

"How'd you lose 'em, then?" the bartender asked, and he began to wipe down the table in front of Seungcheol. He'd spilled; he hadn't even noticed.

"Jisoo got into a real bad accident. I'm not sure what he was doing-- wasn't really sure where he was headed. But he slipped into a heavy, heavy coma when he came out of that accident alive. They pulled the fucking plug on him, because I guess three months is too long to keep someone alive." Seungcheol said. He leaned against his hand. "My angel-- Junghan. Junghan died over heartbreak. God wanted him back. Junghan wanted Jisoo back. They wanted each other so bad. There was such a pull between Heaven and earth and Heaven's so strong-- it won Junghan over so easy. The light was so much brighter than the ones in my cheap ass apartment. I understand why he wanted to leave me."

"I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose, buddy." the bartender said. Seungcheol wanted to laugh and tell him he didn't understand, but of course he didn't. No reason to laugh. He didn't know about angels and the beauty of Heaven and the strength the bond between soulmates were. He didn't understand. So Seungcheol downed the rest of his drink, set it on the table and tapped on the rim, "Another one of these?"

"I'm gonna have to cut you off, buddy. You're already pretty drunk-- and emotional. Okay?" the bartender asked. Seungcheol didn't bother to argue. Did he really need another drink? No. He didn't have the money to spend anyway. Seungcheol nodded. He grabbed his key of the counter-- they'd been sitting just under his arm-- and moved to stand, wobbled, grabbed onto the table again. His hand came to his head, and he shook it around, realized how blurry his vision was, "Fuck. I _cannot_  drive...."

"Keys," the bartender said, holding out his hand. Seungcheol's mind, taken by alcohol, didn't think to tell him that handing his keys over to a stranger, especially where he lived, didn't bring good luck. The bartender, with Seungcheol's keys in hand, hopped over the counter, landed right next to Seungcheol. He was short. Cute. He had a little smile on his face, "I'll drive you. Sober enough to direct me to your car? Tell me where you live?"

"I don't live very close...." Seungcheol muttered. He blinked heavily, frowned. "And you're-- you're working--"

"That's alright. I need a gallon of fresh air," the bartender said. He began to walk, gestured Seungcheol to follow him. Seungcheol wobbled as he walked; and the man took his hand to make sure he didn't fall over. He looked ahead of him as he was walking, rather than keeping an eye on Seungcheol-- "Shift's over, anyway, has been for an hour. I usually stay just a little while to listen to some drunk stories. Most of them are funny. Yours was kinda sad."

"Well. That's who I am, I guess." Seungcheol said. He pointed to a blurry car that looked like his. "That one. There."

The bartended clicked on the button on his keys that would unlock the door. The tail lights of car across from the one Seungcheol had pointed at lit up. The bartender chuckld softly and led Seungcheol over to his car, helping him into the passenger seat before climbing into the driver's seat. He started up the car easy and pulled out easy, began to drive easy. Easy; the bartender seemed to do everything real easy.

"Where do you live, then? Want to tell me an address? I know this city inside-out."

"The apartment complex a couple blocks away." Seungcheol said, pointing in the general direction. The bartender hummed. The drive home didn't seem like miles, but it wasn't as clear and as beautiful as it had been driving down. Everything was blurry and dark and dreary and depressing, much like Seungcheol's life felt. It was _miserable_. The city needed lights. Seungcheol needed a light.

"Here we are," the bartender said once he'd pulled into the parking garage outside of Seungcheol's apartment building. He handed the keys over to Seungcheol once he'd pulled them out of the ignition and reached for the door's handle. He glanced at Seungcheol before he got out, "Need help getting to your room?"

"No. That's alright. Thanks." Seungcheol muttered. He made to get out of the car, but the bartender's hand came down on his wrist, keeping him there for a moment. He pulled a pen from over his ear-- something Seungcheol hadn't noticed was there-- and a paper from his pocket. He tore the paper in half and scribbled down something on the paper, handing it over to Seungcheol.

"Here. If you ever feel like it... tell me a little more about your angels. They were nice to hear about."

The bartender left Seungcheol's car and began to walk away. He didn't look back a single time; Seungcheol watched him leave, staring out of his rear-view mirrow. He sat in the car for a long, long time, and he thought about how he didn't want to get out, about how he didn't want to go back up to his apartment and sleep in the same bed Junghan had died in, but he needed to. He promised Junghan he would be okay, and if he couldn't force himself to go to bed like a proper human being, he couldn't force himself to walk on the road to being alright again.


	4. Hello

_Hey. It's that drunk bastard with the dead angels. You never told me your name. I don't recall telling you mine. Do you want to exchange over coffee at Chen's?_

Seungcheol tapped his fingers against the screen of his phone as he waited for an answer. He thought of it as odd, how the man had listened to him spill his sad story, how they'd taken a drive together and hadn't thought to at least exchange names. Seungcheol wondered if perhaps the bartender didn't even want him to know his name, if he wasn't actually interested in Seungcheol at all-- whether it be because of his angels or because of Seungcheol himself. Why else would he have handed over his number, then? Did he think Seungcheol was hopeless? Did he think Seungcheol needed it?

A buzz, and Seungcheol's hands were vibrating under his phone. Seungcheol looked down at it. A message was looking up at him, with some words already visible, others hidden behind three periods, telling Seungcheol to swipe, to look at the rest of it. Seungcheol did just that, his eyes skimming over the message, a small smile coming to his mouth with it. _Hey, angel boy. I could use some coffee right now. Right now, yeah? I'm already out, really near the place. I'd love if you met me there._

 _I'm on my way_ , Seungcheol's fingers said. Already showered-- thankfully-- he was able to grab his jacket, throw on his sneakers and go right out, head down to Chen's for a cup of coffee with a boy he still didn't know the name of. Seungcheol hoped his blurry vision from last night wasn't giving him the wrong image of a pretty man, short with pink hair. That he could remember, at least. Pink hair. Short boy, short pink hair. That's what he was looking for. He was afraid his blurry face wouldn't look the same as his clear face.

Seungcheol pressed his phone into his pocket on his way down the street. Fresh air blew in his face, all smelling of the city-- like buildings and grass and other simple things in nature and man-made nature. Seungcheol took a deep breath in through his nose, a smile coming to his lips. Here it was, he thought. Here was the road to being okay.

Seungcheol walked down the concrete with free steps, no longer wobbly but a little painful from his headache-- every step giving him another twinge of ache up to his head, through his spine. Seungcheol was able to ignore the pain. It wasn't his fire time having a hangover, and with the thought of a nice, warm, flavorful cup of coffee with a pretty pink-haired boy in his mind next to all the pain, it made it hurt less.

Pink hair, Seungcheol thought. He couldn't help but let his thoughts fade over to his dead angel, wondering what Junghan might look like with pink in his hair-- maybe in the tips. Maybe blnde fading into pink. He could already imagine just how beautiful that would look when he pulled it back into a ponytail.

A ponytail. Seungcheol glanced down at his wrist; and sure enough, a black band was wrapped around it. He always carried them for Junghan; he was just used to it, because Junghan often forgot to get grab them himself. Seungcheol's steps became slower until he stopped, still staring at the black band around his wrist. Junghan's hair, he thought-- imagine _pink_  in that. Imagine running fingers through blonde to pink.... Broken record, broken record, broken record.... _Broken, broken, broken_.

Seungcheol looked at his fingers. He had no more pretty, long, blonde hair to run his fingers through. _Unbroken_.

Seungcheol took the ponytail off of his wrist, and for a moment, he thought about tossing it, but he didn't. He wanted to _get over_ Junghan, not toss him away and forget completely. They weren't ex's; Junghan was dead, and Seungcheol was trying to get over it, trying to accept that. Seungcheol tucked the ponytail into his back pocket. Out of sight, out of mind; a stop in thinking about his dead angel was a good start. He would never forget, but he would store the beautiful boy and his beautiful best friend in the back of his mind. They would be in his heart and in Heaven.

Beautiful.

Seungcheol began to move again, looking up at the city; it was so beautiful. The air smelled so fresh anymore. It was _so beautiful_. Seungcheol took in a deep, deep breath, closed his eyes just to take it all in. _Beautiful_. Seungcheol smiled really bright, and his eyes filled with tears, but he didn't think he was sad. He wasn't. He was happy. He was on his way to meet a really pretty pink-haired boy, to drink some pretty white coffee, to sit down and talk about his angels, maybe a little more than that. He was happy; he was getting there. He was on the road to being okay.

"Crying already? I thought we would save tears for your angels," the pink-haired boy greeted Seungcheol at the entrance of the coffee shop, reaching up to wipe away a tear that had just fallen from Seungcheol's left eye. Seungcheol shook his head, reaching up to rub his eye himself as well.

"I'm Seungcheol; and I'm okay." Seungcheol said, reaching out to shake the pink-haired boy's hand. The boy smiled, and he took Seungcheol's hand, "I'm Jihoon; and I'm okay, too."


End file.
